Renegade
by 18204
Summary: Just come out and say it.


**AN: First of all, I apologize. I wrote this purely because I was dying for some kind of Meaningful Interaction® between Shadow and Infinite; for this reason, I understand if it doesn't make much sense. Then again, the source material didn't make much sense either, so it's not entirely my fault. Still, I am well aware that I have completely lost the ability to write anything coherent, and for this I ask that you forgive me, dear readers.**

 **Now, for a bit of clarification:**

 **I intentionally wrote this without direct dialogue. Take that as you will.**

 **The POV is also intentionally inconsistent, meant to focus on both characters but not in a way that you would expect.**

 **I wasn't looking to write a shipfic, but you can interpret this however you like.**

 **This takes place after Forces, obviously.**

 **And Infinite has some serious insecurity issues, and Shadow knows it.**

 **Without further ado, let the nonsense begin!**

Renegade

His hands are cold without the gloves to cover them.

He hastily apologizes for his transgression, though it doesn't appear to have affected him in any way.

Infinite responds by turning away. Out of misplaced respect, he does the same. Why? He doesn't want to ask himself.

He'll leave, then. No. He blindly reaches for his arm. He doesn't want to be alone. He'll deny it until his last breath, but another person's face is his only shield.

Shadow knows the truth. He knows everything because he stabbed himself in the back and opened his mouth. He hadn't seen the point in lying to him; then again, he hadn't expected Shadow to escape the illusion so quickly. Unfortunately, that hadn't been the only time at which he'd underestimated the enemy's strength.

And now he's here because of it.

Shadow wants to know why. He already knows, doesn't he? He just wants to hear him say it. Well, he's outta luck then.

Is that so.

He's trying to look at him now, but Infinite won't let it happen. They haven't locked eyes since that day—the day he was reborn. He remembers his eyes, blood-red and deep enough to drown him.

He had trembled in fear of their hidden power.

 _Worthless. He'd called him worthless. Sneering down at him, he'd ordered him to never show his pathetic face around him again._

He had taken those words to heart. Never again, he'd sworn as he picked up the mask, never again. His nameless self was dead, and Shadow had killed him. He was Infinite from that moment on—unstoppable, unbreakable, untouchable, _infinite._

And Shadow's hands are freezing cold.

He wants him to say it. Why does he keep running? What does he have to hide from?

Shadow knows he can't say it, not like this, not as Infinite.

Why? Why is he still wearing that damn mask? He should take it off. He wants to laugh and cry at the same time.

No, never. He'd promised them both on that day that he would never...

… seriously. Things are different now. Are they?

For a moment, the only sound is the wind whistling outside the cabin's thin walls. He can't even hear himself breathing.

Is he alive? The triangular scar on his chest seems to suggest so. He was once a machine, solely driven by a desire to grow stronger, to consume more and more until there was nothing left. What is he now? Shadow wants to know for sure.

 _Shadow will never know,_ whispers the scar.

Just take it off. He's wedged between the past and the future. Which should he trust? He knows what he should do—

He can't. He casts half a glance at Shadow's face only to find it just as elusive as his own.

He wants to ask him what he knows about it.

Shadow wants him to ask why. He'll tell him all about his past and who he used to be, if he wants to know. Does he want to change? Does he want to go back?

He can't be sure.

Here. He extends one hand for a reason he can't quite name.

You can't hide forever.

He's talking to his past self, with eyes downcast.

I know who you really are.

 _Be honest for once in your life._

He's trembling in the face of the same fear that rebuilt him. Should he stop? Withdraw? Pretend he never tried at all?

 _Maybe just a little more._

Infinite, is it? His heavy head snaps . Does he think he's that stupid? Does he take him for a fool? Don't be ridiculous. He's staring at the wall. Don't. He's feeling the impossible— could it be...?

Shadow just doesn't understand. That's all.

It's enough to make Infinite regret everything: tracking Shadow down like this, letting his ego get in his way, throwing it all away on a wing and a prayer, joining forces with Eggman— even bringing his Jackal Squad to Eggman's base in the first place, because it had all brought him pain on top of pain, just what he had been trying to avoid. How had he ever been so _delusional_ as to honestly believe that a _nobody_ like himself could accomplish anything?

Shadow had been right. He'd known that from the start—that was why he'd put on the mask. But he's still right, isn't he? He's still just as worthless—just as _weak—_ as ever.

What's the point? What's the _fucking_ point?!

He hurls his mask at Shadow's feet and runs out the door before the dark hedgehog can get a single word out.

Infinite. He can hear him calling from somewhere painfully close. Infinite.

No. That's not him. Infinite was a lie, a facade, the name of the mask. He is nothing, and he has always been nothing.

Infinite. It's right in front of his face. Infinite. Come on now. He can't see a thing, and he's not sure if it's because he hasn't taken off the mask since he put it on over a year ago or if he's really, actually crying.

But he can feel Shadow's steady, firm hands on his shoulders.

He knows, all right? He knows. He does know, and it's all because Infinite couldn't stop sabotaging himself.

And damn it, is he glad.

He might be shivering in the relentless wind, but Shadow's proximity fills him with more warmth than he's ever dreamed of.


End file.
